Read Online The Maxwell Sisters by Loretta Hill - Free Book Online Page A

went out again to get the drinks.
    Her sister’s face had lightened considerably with the exchange and so had the burden in Phoebe’s pocket. Being back in the house and surrounded by her family, she began to wonder why she was making such a big deal about a forgotten scrap of paper. Who knew how long it had been sitting there? Perhaps it was years old – back from a time before she’d even come on the scene, when the kitchen was full of staff. She tried to remember the names and faces of some of their female employees. Eve would know. Maybe she’d ask her later.
    In any case, the letter was not proof of infidelity. Someone had a crush on her fiancé and that wasn’t a crime. It was even kind of flattering.
    An hour later Spider’s parents arrived and then Heath turned up a few minutes later. This provided further distraction. The family was finally coming together. Her loving fiancé was by her side. This wedding was going to happen. How could she believe that anything could possibly tear them apart now?

Chapter 5
    The scenery was gorgeous. Warmth and a feeling of well-being filled Natasha as she drove up Rickety Twigg road. It wound lovingly through the tall green forest of marri and jarrah trees from Bussell Highway to the quiet town of Yallingup – a tiny hub in this area filled with wineries. Their tall grey and white trunks stretched up to the sky but all those branches and leaves let in only a smattering of flickering sunlight, which played upon her dashboard as she wove her way through the forest. Excitedly, she wound down her window to let the fresh country air whip at her cheeks and hair. She could hear the sounds of the bush now. Birds, probably fairy wrens or New Holland honeyeaters, looking for a sweet flower or unprotected grape.
    There were so many wineries in the area. Happs, Driftwood, Stormflower, Woody Nook, Rosily, Clairault. Too many to name them all. Every estate had its own history, its own methods of growing grapes and making wine, in a region so passionate about a good drop.
    But amidst it all, Rickety Twigg road was the path that cut history through her life. All the properties on this road held childhood memories. She had grown up here. Driving down it now eased some of the hurt and pain she had accumulated over the past year. Coming home felt like the right thing to do.
    The first winery that flashed into view was Oak Hills, with its huge wrought iron gate spread wide at the top of a red gravel track, which led into the heart of the estate. Nearly as old and well known as Tawny Brooks, it was owned by the Franklins, whom she had not seen in years. Relations between her family and theirs were mixed. In all matters of wine and business they were arch enemies, competing neck and neck for sales and James Halliday stars. Their growing and viticulture philosophies were completely different, so conversations were always too opinionated to be friendly.
    Back in high school she and every other girl had been fascinated by Jack Franklin, who, from age eighteen, was the region’s most notorious womaniser. She’d even had a fling with him at one stage before he’d decided to move overseas to pick up new knowledge in winemaking. She wondered where he was now. Tearing up France, no doubt. His sister, Claudia, and brother, Chris, were lovely. They’d gone to school together and always got on well. It was a shame their parents hadn’t been more friendly.
    She passed the entrance to the next property, which was not very big. No more than about thirty hectares. The access road was a poorly defined dirt track that came off Rickety Twigg and seemed to run straight into the bush. There was no visible sign post. So if you weren’t a local, you wouldn’t even notice it. The property was called Gum Leaf Grove – probably because of the huge gum trees on the road side, shielding it from view. As children, she and her sisters had dubbed it the haunted